


In Too Deep

by 221A_brina



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Along for the Ride - Freeform, Come Along Now, De-briefing (nudge nudge), Dream On, Dream Until Your Dreams Come True, Edging - Kink, Edgy, Established Relationship, F/M, Fantasy will set you free, Go Get ‘Er Tiger, Hi Honey I’m Home, How Deep Is Your Love?, Jack is an Adonis, Jack’s Been Away For Far Too Long, Magic (Carpet) Ride, Now go Phrack off XOXO, Ok... done with tags – go read, P w/a set-up of resolved P, PFF (Phrack Fucking Friday) Wannabe, PPF – Phrack Phiccing Friday?, PWP, Phrack Porn Fridays?, Phryne is a Goddess, Technically not a PFF since it’s not the 1st Friday of the month, Try not to hum any of the songs while you read, Undercover, Undercover (wink wink), Why don't you tell your dreams to me, amiright?, debriefing, i really need to know, ‘Cause Every Friday Deserves Phrack Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 18:35:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15712770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221A_brina/pseuds/221A_brina
Summary: Jack has just returned from a four-week deep (under)cover operation.





	In Too Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Eara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eara/gifts).



> Back in Dec. 2017 upon reading a short line of dialog spoken by Phryne in [kid_the_hall’s “Compressed”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8947900) _“In that deep, Jack?”_ my brain decided to go on a journey on a south-bound train. I jotted down some notes, ideas,  & snippets of dialog, then forgot about them. The PFF 2 Year Anniversary had me scouring my files for something smutty with which to celebrate. Out of the blue, this one popped up. ;o) Unfortunately, it didn’t make in time for the last PFF. (Trains in these parts are known for not being on schedule.) Fortunately, the train kept going deeper south until it reached the end of the line and Phrack got off. So to speak.
> 
> Eara – I hope this doesn’t put you on edge... or do I? Living on the edge – what a way to go, eh? ;o)

Having just concluded another case and wrapped up the paperwork on the latest undercover operation on the books at City South, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson rose from his desk, gathered up his coat, hat and briefcase, and shut off the lights in his office. He'd barely taken two steps out the door when the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher flitted into the station on a cloud of finery, feathers, and French perfume.

“Hallo, Jack! I wasn’t expecting to see you for another week, but a little bird told me you were back. Does this mean your undercover operation is over?” she queried, all bright-eyed and cheery despite the late hour.

“Ah, Miss Fisher. So nice of you to drop by.” He raised his brows in acknowledgment, then turned to his constable at the reception desk. 

“Collins, if you would, make sure these get filed with Russell Street first thing tomorrow?” he requested as he handed a stack of files to his junior officer.

“Yes, sir,” the earnest young man nodded as he accepted the files. “First thing, right, sir.” Hugh ducked down the hallway with the files and set about preparing them for transport in the morning.

Jack turned his attention back to the woman before him. She was a vision, draped in a deep teal velvet gown with an asymmetrical neckline, which was accented by sequins and a beaded fringe hemline. Her wrap was some sort of diaphanous confection in a coordinating shade of turquoise, its ends littered in wisps of peacock feathers sans eyes, alternating with more beaded fringe. He paused to take a cleansing breath in an attempt to rid his head of hours of bureaucratic paperwork and forms, and managed to draw in a deep draught of her fragrance into his lungs. He smiled, almost imperceptibly, as the power of her scent managed to lodge in his heart then proceeded straight to his groin. Thank goodness for small mercies, as he was behind the counter and his overcoat was draped over his briefcase in hand in front of him.

“I needed to stay and finish up tonight, lest it be a Damocles’ sword over my head all weekend. I'd rather not drag it out any longer than necessary. Having been fully ensconced in that particular operation for that long, I'm anxious to get back to a more normal routine. And considering I’m required to take time off starting Monday…” He looked at his watch. “The quicker I can put this in the rearview mirror, the better,” the detective sighed, running his finger and thumb across his brows in an obviously tired motion, exhaustion dotting his visage.

“I was beginning to worry you might not resurface, Jack. Four weeks is a rather long time to be undercover, isn't it? Not to mention a rather interminable period to be bereft of your presence.” Miss Fisher strode toward him, closing the distance in seconds, the low swinging door, the only barrier between them. She begun threading her hands down his lapels, as she was wont to do, and looked longingly into his eyes mesmerized by the deep blue gazing back at her.

“Actually, the operation ran for three and a half weeks,” he said, setting briefcase and overcoat on the counter. “The last several days I’ve been at Russell Street being debriefed,” he clarified.

“Hmph...” she huffed, picking at an imaginary speck of lint on his lapel. “Well...” she started, smoothing her hands flat down the length of his lapels where they came to rest in the center of his chest. “I’m sure they have their methods, but I much prefer mine,” her lips quirked up in a slightly suggestive smile. “As I’m sure you’d agree,” she insinuated, batting her eyelashes in a failed attempt at innocence. 

The ever-dour detective cracked a hint of a smile, a motion that was all but imperceptible to those unfamiliar with his usual restraint. The twinkle in his eyes was his only tell. “Be that as it may, Miss Fisher, I do need to go home and decompress a bit and re-familiarize myself with... myself, since in this particular case I was in quite deep.”

“In too deep, Jack?” she inquired, patting, then pulling his lapels, gently bringing him closer, her face a breath away from his.

“Later, Miss Fisher, God willing” 

“Oh, I rather think His will won't have any bearing on that matter in the least, Inspector,” she replied, a salacious grin erupting from the corners of her vermillion clad lips.  

He fixed her with a look comprised of equal parts exasperation, frustration, humor and raw desire. His only concession to her remark? A devilish glint in his eye, and the beginnings of a smile meant only for her.

“Come by for a nightcap, Jack?” Miss Fisher propositioned as she pried herself from his grasp. “Say, half ten? We’ll get you ensconced and undercover in no time, and I can assure you, our debriefing will be much more enjoyable.” She swirled around and sashayed out the front doors, the scent of promise lingering in the air. 

 

* * *

 

Later that evening, as Jack was buried balls deep in her desire-slicked folds, he brought his mouth to her ear, his warm breath parting her hair with every exhale. As he continued to languidly thrust, his voice vibrated low and deep against her chest, and in her ear, causing her inner muscles to massage along his length.

“So, Miss Fisher... am I in too deep?” he asked, emphasizing his point by sinking himself further into her sex. His lips continued to hum around the helix of her delicate ear, sending a swath of gooseflesh along the side of her head down towards her pebbled nipples. He gently drew her earlobe between his lips, caressing it, leaving tender almost nips in his wake, his teeth grazing the soft flesh, his hot breath flooding her in an ocean of warmth. When he released his hold on her lobe, he was sure he heard a faint mewling escape her lips under her breath. Spurred on by her sounds of pleasure, he brushed his warm, wet tongue against her tragus, gently flicking, stroking and laving the hard nubbin of flesh, his actions sending pulses straight to her cunt.

Phryne gasped as a spark exploded round her ear; an overwhelming rush of blood muffling all sound. A prickling began to build, quickly immolating every sensitized nerve as it skittered along her skin down past her hips, sending a jolt through her inner walls that gripped and slipped along his girth. A languorous pool of warmth blossomed in her belly.  

“Never, Jack. Never deep enough,” Phryne whispered, on his lips, her words breathy, rough and raspy, her body trembling precariously, balancing on the peak. “More...” she demanded, as her hands caressed the planes and angles of his face leaving savage kisses in their wake.

He increased his thrusting in a sure, steady, measured pace, knowing full well she wanted, craved much more. He sensed her frustration, and noted her attempt to push him just enough to bring her over; he didn’t give in, he had other plans. Instead, he traced the rough pads of his fingertips down along her spine in a whisper soft line leaving more gooseflesh in its wake, to spread large hands around to cup and knead the pert pale globes of her derrière.

She bucked against him to get better purchase, her breath more and more labored as their tempo increased. Give and take, lunge and riposte. 

“Jaaaa-ck... pleeease...” she begged, her head flung back, writhing, twisting, seeking the heady rush of release. Her skin buzzed, an electric current of liquid fire spiraling outward and flooding her limbs. The tell-tale coiling began, readying her for impending climax. “Deeper!” she demanded, grabbing the hollows of his arse cheeks and gripping him closer still, as if she could take him inside her completely by sheer force of will. Her damp, glistening breasts pressed firmly to his chest.

He could feel her inching closer and closer towards orgasm as he continued to drive further and further into her throbbing channel; her muscles squeezed his shaft to the point of pleasure-pain, bringing him to the brink. His heightened senses picked up on her breathing; heavy panting became more erratic as he continued to plunge and pummel her depths. As her breathing stuttered, stopping intermittently, he felt her limbs begin to stiffen.  

This was it. Now or never. Jack knew what he was about to attempt might have potentially dire consequences, _(after all… this_ was _Phryne)_ but he was willing to take the risk all the same. If he could pull it off, the rewards would far outweigh any ire she might hurl at him, and would, no doubt, yield breathtaking results. For them both.

As Phryne tried to pull him in even deeper, he leveraged his hips back pulling almost completely out, save for his cockhead, dipping and teasing at her entrance, milking her with every movement; her labia murmuring wet kisses on his glans. She whimpered at the loss of fullness of his shaft in her tightening core, her body reluctant to relinquish its prize. She reached down to envelop his engorged member in her hand, desperately stroking as it pulsed.

A sharp intake of breath paused his movements. He moaned in delight as her soft hand climbed up and down his slick hardness. 

He returned the favor by brushing a thick finger along her dripping entrance, causing her to quiver and hiss when finger and clit connected. A deep guttural groan wrested itself from her throat, inarticulate and primal. He flicked her swollen nub once, twice, then teased circles around it, to flick again and release. Her eyes flew open, pupils blown wide, unfocused, and wild; her back arched, flushed breasts bouncing with every jerk and flutter of her pelvis, a keening wail drawn from her depths rose with each spasm, sending her to the verge, a mere instant away from shattering.

Jack paused in his ministrations, easing Phryne down from the edge, to rest for several measures amidst her growls of protest. He refrained from moving fingers and cock, allowing her further respite and repose in a few more seconds of stillness. He could see the wildness slowly ebbing from her eyes, understanding dawning, quickly supplanted with newfound cunning and a hint of mischief. It took all he had to hold on, to withhold his own release, veritably aching for that one last nudge, to ignite his white-hot center into a molten flow. He clenched his jaw, desperately trying to still for just one more moment; he looked deeply into the eyes of his goddess, begging her to release the floodgates so they could ride the last wave into blissful ecstasy together.

She nodded and stretched her neck, cat-like, before him, presenting the pale expanse of skin for him to devour, which he did with unrestrained gusto, marking her with lips, teeth and tongue. He paused to draw in a much-needed breath which was when she engaged a full-scale assault on his already strained and fraying nerves. She sank down to his root, sheathing herself on his tumid shaft, her lips sucking one nipple, tongue laving circles around his areola, teeth grazing the distended tip, while a hand did the same for its twin. 

When she simultaneously bit one nipple and pinched the other, it was Jack’s turn to shudder erratically as all control was wrested from his body. The pent-up tension sprang forth with a ferocity he’d never felt before; the feeling intensified, passing all thresholds of pain and pleasure towards mind-altering oblivion. “Fffff-UUUUU...” he roared, his voice sputtered out of existence, all breath leaving him, sensation threatening to overload what remained of his consciousness as he pumped furiously, burying his heart, mind and soul into the woman he loved.

With the sole remaining thread of awareness, Jack snaked his hand down to where their bodies were joined in their primal and ancient dance and lovingly stroked Phryne’s nether lips, fingers instinctively drawn to the spot he knew would trigger her-his-their explosive release. His intention sliced through the haze that had begun to shroud her, and she exhaled a barely audible “Yesssss!”  

They screamed simultaneously as the implosion pulled them inwards and intensified before reaching its corona. She kissed him, raw and open, capturing his cries as she surrendered hers to him, claiming his heart, mind, and soul as she laid bare hers in return. 

The final surge crested and burst outwards in a glorious explosion of wave after wave of pleasure, obliterating yet expanding their senses and awareness to a pinpoint of rapturous clarity.

Later, (how much later, they were unsure) they managed to regain a minute level of consciousness. First Jack, then Phryne managed to open an eye, checking on the other. They could see enough to register the darkened sky outside the window indicating the night still reined. Unable to move, limbs still heavy with numbness, they attempted to wriggle into a more comfortable sleeping position. 

Jack managed to gather just enough energy to reach for and drape the rumpled doona over both of them and pull Phryne to him. 

“I'm so glad you’re home, Jack,” she mumbled, smiling sleepily, her hand settling on his heart; its beat steady and reassuring. 

“As am I.” He placed a numb-lipped kiss on her tangled raven locks, covering her small hand in his. He smiled and fell into a dreamless slumber. 


End file.
